


From Hell She Came

by darknessvisible



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: BDSM, Bondage and Discipline, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Reylo, Dark Side Rey, Dominant Rey, Everyone Has Issues, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand & Finger Kink, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-24 09:17:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20703587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknessvisible/pseuds/darknessvisible
Summary: from reylo_prompts twitter, Curious Cat Prompt: “When Palpatine concocts a vision of Rey; a darker, more arrogant, and seductive one, she finds herself steaming with jealousy as she can only watch the vision begin to flirt with and touch Kylo in ways that she has only dreamt of.”[ this will be a multi-chapter fic. with lots of messed up smutty things. enter at your own risk. ]





	1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

Rey woke up to the sound of rain splattering against the rocks. 

She had built herself a makeshift fence - though it had little true power in keeping anyone out. It was more for herself - to keep herself in this little circle, and, in doing so, far away from Kylo Ren. 

The First Order had been pursuing them relentlessly, and it was Poe’s quick thinking that diverted them at the last minute. Finn hadn’t been fond of the plan, but Rey had to make her own choice and he could not argue with that. Nor could he argue with the sedative Poe gave him, just for good measure. 

Rey drew out the First Order’s forces, leading them in hot pursuit all the way to the small cave she inhabited. Kylo _ knew _ she was in here, she could sense him scratching at the door of her mind like a hungry monster. Trying so hard to frighten her. 

But it wouldn’t work. She understood her own power more than she ever had before, and he couldn’t take that away from her. 

So she waited, setting up a trail of rocks between herself and the entrance to the cave. For the most important battle of her life, it felt rather… boring. She kicked around a few smaller pebbles, and even tried her hand at rearranging the rocks a few times. Testing her connection to the Force. 

Why was he making her wait like this?

Part of her grew anxious that they had somehow found out the plan, and instead changed their course to the Resistance hold-out. There were so few of them left… if the First Order tracked them down, they could end everything in a single blast. 

Rey tried not to think of that. Poe had given her a tracker, similar to the one she kept with her on the Island with Luke. 

Luke… Something else she tried not to think of in that moment. 

Rey found that when her heart entered the conversation, it weakened her mind to Kylo’s attempts. 

So she kept counting the rocks between her position and the entrance. Guesstimating how many Storm Troopers Kylo would barricade her in with. He was no fool, after all, and now that she had rejected him he would show no mercy, even if they were alone. 

Her mind went back to the moment between them in the Throne Room. It often drifted there, though she could never make sense of what it was trying to tell her. Why go over that moment? Why fixate on his gloved hand, extended in the cascade of amber and ash? Why bother thinking and rethinking a decision she could not have possibly made differently? 

Perhaps Rey’s mind clawed not at the counterfactual, but at another decision altogether. Kylo Ren had asked her the wrong question. 

And now, she awaited him, full of answers that frightened her. Answers that wouldn’t even make a difference, anymore. 

Yet, even as a stranger to touch - to intimacy, trust, and desire - Rey could sense that, in Kylo’s eyes, she’d lost her chance. Given it up. Chosen to remain impenetrable. What she could never make him see - what he conquered galaxies to block out - was that the light she saw in him was not only for his soul, but for hers as well. 

She saw her love in him. 

But he did not want it, too. Rey could comprehend his rejection, while he could not comprehend hers. 

One of the pebbles, a particularly sturdy little composite she’d been levitating between her fingers, slowly, just to catch the stream that carried its energy (a trick Luke had never explicitly taught her, but he said everything else she needed to hear in order to figure out that most, if not all, things had a current within the Force, and sometimes using its power was as easy as going for a swim), started to rumble. This was not her doing. 

He was on his way. 

Rey dropped the pebble, backing up, although she knew perfectly well there was nowhere to go. Her hand flew to the weapon on her belt--a Z6 Finn had used to take down Captain Phasma in the battle on the Star Destroyer. Her fingers splayed out against the hilt of the weapon, steady and taut, her legs positioned as though she were about to leap forward at any moment, right into the eye of her destiny. 

A place she might never return from. 

And that had been Finn’s greatest fear, no doubt, but it could not be hers. 

She needed to be ready. 

Rey from Jakku, the little orphan scavenger girl - the nobody, as Kylo Ren had knighted her - who had to survive without the protection - without the promise - of her family’s return, would not die a nobody if she died protecting her friends. That much she knew, and it was more than enough to steady her breath as the rumble of Storm Troopers approached the valley, shaking the cave’s floor. 

But the rumbling seemed to stop, and no white helmets materialized on the horizon. In fact, Rey could not sense Kylo anymore. It seemed he had… given up? Trying to break in to her mind?

Odd, considering he hadn’t given her a moment of reprieve these last few days. Was this a game? 

She tensed up, shifting her weapon from the physical to the mental. Closing her eyes, Rey cleared her mind as Luke had taught her to. She became still, accepting, immobile. Only then would she sense the moment he struck - her only option was to welcome his ambush and trust her instincts to be milliseconds faster than his own. 

A presence entered her mind, slick and somewhat amused with itself. This was not Kylo Ren. Rey’s breathing quickened. 

“Who are you?” She barked into the echoing cavern. 

The presence was still. 

“Who are you?” She growled, amplifying the demand within herself in the hopes that it would scare out….whatever this was. 

A quiet sound regarded her, and then it grew--grew like the rattle of an engine… was that… laughter? Rey’s eyes opened, her brows fiercely strewn in combat while her arms, outstretched and willing to lift the entire mouth of the cave if need be, shielded her. From what? 

She didn’t know.

The cave was empty. 

Suddenly, she felt very tired. The laughter seemed to possess in its lilt a slimy quality, one that coated her entirely. She felt her reason sealed off, like a wound she could no longer reach, and instead all that remained was the dirt floor and its desire to devour her. 

And so it did. 

Her body hit the floor with a ‘crack’. 

* * *

“Tell me again, what is your name?” 

The hooded man’s hoarse voice was not to be mistaken with weakness, that much was known to the woman he spoke to. 

“Rey,” she responded slyly, uttering the name like it were a promise to pay back a debt. Saccharine. Dispensing. “Rey from Nowhere.” 

Her eyes twinkled, as though the untethered state of her being made for great fun. Like a wolf kicking its paws against the forest twigs, she leaned forward and hungered towards the door. She was wrapped in endless black - a warrior's uniform that shone in the firelight like silk. It was made just for her mere moments earlier, as was she. But unlike the wrapped fabric, she could recall the threads that brought her here. 

“Not yet,” the hooded man raised a finger and she yelped in pain as her chest was slammed into the floor. “You are too much like I made you,” the hooded man cackled. 

Her smile pressed into the cold tile, eyes darkening. “Then perhaps the tale is true.” She waited for him to take the bait. 

And he did. He wanted to. 

“What tale?” He allowed her body a few inches of room, though she remained hovering parallel to the floor, hands twisted painfully behind her back. 

“Of the Old Man Who Was Once King.” She betrayed nothing in her voice but a cool, mocking interest. As though they might be two children swapping bedtime stories, and it was she whose story was the more interesting one. 

“How does it go?” The hooded man--who called himself Palpatine--let her rise slowly and face him. 

“There was once a King who became an old man, and in his fear of death he sought the most powerful soldier of all.” 

“And he found it,” Palpatine mused in his withering voice. 

“But it wasn’t enough. The soldier was rebellious and wrought with his own fear. Of loneliness.” Like a serpent’s tongue she weaved her story in ribboning parts, aware of this old man’s captivation. Not with the actual story, of course - he was too imperious for that - rather, with her desire to tell it to him. 

“Then the Soldier fell in love, and the King, knowing he would die soon, now feared love more than he feared death.” 

“And what of you?” The hooded man clasped his hands together, advancing on her. 

“Me?” Her eyes glinted with curiosity, underpinned still by the wolf who ached to run. She would not tell him what he wished to know. Instead, she would tell him something worse, and that would put an end to his questions for now. “I am the last chance you have to live forever.” 

* * *

When Rey awoke, it was the throbbing pain in her temple that confirmed to her that the cave’s floor was no place to be sleeping, especially not in the middle of a battle. She tried scrambling to her feet, but found that everything moved much slower, like the air had a quarrel with her. 

Her ears perked for the sound from before -- that sickening laughter. But nothing came. 

Even in her confusion she could recognize a trap. 

Despite her better judgment, she tried to summon Kylo’s presence in her mind. She could sense him nearby, but he was no longer trying to get at her. Something had shifted in him. There was an odd sort of electricity coming off him…. an... excitement? 

Had they found the Resistance hide-out? Was this the satisfaction of a man who stood Supreme Leader Ren, a battlefield littered with bodies -- her friend’s bodies? 

This moved Rey like no other. Her body shot up, piercing through the heaviness of the air, and she scratched and clawed her way to the nearest boulder, using it to help her stand. 

“You are much stronger than I thought,” an old, misshapen voice greeted her. 

Her head spun about frantically, trying to identify the source, but there was only the settling dust of the cavern and the midday sun peeking its way in. Rey lost her footing a few times, pieces of gravel loosening her heels, causing her to lean back onto the boulder for support. 

She shielded her chest with one hand and used the other to feel the grooves of the boulder behind her, desperately groping for a sharp edge she might be able to snap off. 

“Tsk tsk tsk,” the voice came again, “I did not come here to harm you. At least not in that way, my little Rey of light. Wounds heal. What I am about to do to you… well, you’ll find no corner of the universe where you can be put back together.” And then, the voice laughed, a hacking sort of crescendo that made Rey wonder if it were just an old man on his deathbed instead of an enemy with a legitimate threat. 

She subtly tested her hypothesis. “You’re old, and dying.” Perhaps not so subtle. 

The voice laughed. “I am. And what are you?”

Rey stuck out her chest, fire in her eyes as she spit his words back at him, “I am stronger than you thought.” 

“I was hoping you would be. Now, take a seat.” 

Her dirtied hands were still groping for a makeshift weapon, and she did not stop at this demand, nor did she have any intention of fulfilling it. 

“I said, _ take a seat _.” 

Rey’s body was flung forward as though it were made of sand and cloth, dragging along a course with no control over herself as she spilled everywhere, flailing, grappling, struggling against the assault on her body. This person… this thing… whatever it was, it used the Force with such effortlessness Rey almost feared it was a Jedi. 

But no Jedi would be this cruel. Surely not. 

“I’d like you to show me something.” The voice spoke in a beguiling tone. “Kylo Ren. Show me his mind.” 

She shot back, still squirming against the impossible hold on her. “I can’t. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.” 

“Not even to keep your friends alive?” 

Her body ran cold. “What do you know about them? They’re not even here. It’s just me. It’s just me!” She repeated the rehearsed lie, but something told her this strange being would not miss her frantic tone. She felt utterly bare in its presence. Not even Kylo made her feel so fractured from herself. 

“Show me Kylo Ren’s mind, or I will kill your friends.”

“I already told you _ I can’t _ ! The Force bond is _ gone _ between us! He shut me out! Now let my friends go or I will kill you myself!” 

The voice cackled. For the briefest moment Rey felt the pressure lifted off her body and she did not hesitate to lunge, but whatever it was that set her free decided then to clamp down even harder, slamming her body back against the boulder. 

“If you can’t show me his mind, then we’ll have to look through yours.” 

“Let my friends go.” She spoke through gritted teeth, pain spreading rapidly along her lower back and all the way up to her shoulders. “And I’ll let you look into my mind.” 

“You misunderstand me. Your mind no longer only belongs to you. Now, as I said, we’ll have to look through yours…” 

Another gust of pressure grabbed at Rey’s shoulders and shoved them back into the boulder, causing her to yelp. The pain was making her dizzy. She could feel herself slipping away… Eyes fluttering, Rey’s head lolled to the side, trying desperately to conjure up an image of her friends - of Jakku - of Ben Solo - anything she could be at peace with dying to. 

But she was not dead. Not even close. 

“Hello, Kylo,” a voice drifted above her somewhere, sounding so close to hers and yet so terribly wrong. 

“Rey?” Kylo’s disbelieving tone she recognized as truly him. But why did he think he was talking to her? She was here, stretched upon this stupid boulder, limbs locked in pain. She tried to call out for him, but her voice did not obey. Why couldn’t she speak? 

And then, the gravelly, aging voice: “My child, this is only just the beginning,”


	2. Second Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ had to throw in some more angst before the filthy, filthy smut. and it will. be. filthy. ]

From the darkness that swallowed the walls of the cave, a woman appeared. She was not unlike a human, but Rey could sense something monstrous about her. As she seemed to grow closer, the familiarity could not be denied. 

Rey gasped, feeling herself reach out to grab the vision, wondering if she was having a nightmare, but she could not. Her body was frozen. At her side she sensed a presence - the same one from before - and she regarded it with a trembling whisper. 

“What have you done to me?”

“It is what you have done to yourself that you should be more concerned with,” it whispered back. 

“Rey.” Kylo’s voie came again, his silhouette materializing shortly after. Was this the Force bond again? 

She tried to call out to him, but no sound escaped her mouth. Grabbing her throat, Rey tried to shout, but the silence only grew louder. 

He was moving towards her, a skeptical coldness in his approach, but before Rey could try to speak again something moved in front of her. 

The vision again. 

It was her, black robes wrapped around her lithe, fighter’s advance. She circled Kylo. 

The urge to protect him surprised Rey, hands twitching for her staff, though it had long since left her, abandoned back on the Falcon. She wanted a better look. 

The presence sizzled against the walls of her mind. “_ As you wish _.” 

A rush of wind picked her up and threw her forward, the room around her spinning along with the sudden catapult of her body. Kylo was closer now - close enough that she could see the tremble of his lower lid, his eyes set upon the vision before him. 

Rey followed his gaze, finally taking in the woman. 

What she saw was perhaps worse than a nightmare. 

It was her, but her eyes looked different. More catlike. And darker. It looked as though some kind of charcoal was spread across her eyelids - something Rey had only seen once or twice in her life. It gave her a sensual appearance that was startling. 

Even the way she walked - a confident strut - was so far from Rey’s own impulsive stride. 

“You’ve been waiting for me.” The woman who looked like Rey finally acknowledged Kylo. 

The dark haired man immediately sensed something off; even in her landlocked state, Rey could feel the shifts inside him. Their Force bond was still present. Maybe she could reach him that way? Focusing her gaze, Rey tried to feel for Kylo’s mind. 

_ That’s not me. I’m here, Kylo. I’m trapped. Help me. _

“You’re different.” The low, severe timbre of the only Solo son drowned out her pleas, as he, too, seemed to be startled by the vision that appeared as Rey. “Where are your precious rebels?” 

“Do you think I go everywhere with them? That they control me?” Dark Rey nudged her hood down just a bit, revealing to Kylo her entrancing eyes. “I came alone.” 

“Then you are a fool.” Kylo leveled his stance with hers, though he did not have to reach for a weapon to attack. Raising his hand to meet her eye-line, the muscles in his neck began to twitch as he tried, in vain, to use the Force against her. 

Dark Rey laughed, letting him struggle long enough to break a sweat before she lifted her own arm and sent Kylo crumpling to the floor with one quick shut of her palm. 

“Always solving your problems through violence.” She moved deftly towards him, stopping just shy of his chest as he raised his head to look at her, grunting as he balanced on one knee. “You can’t overpower me anymore. I’m different,” she echoed his observation. 

“Have you finally seen the power of the Dark Side?” Kylo’s gloved hands glided towards his belt, where the hilt of a lightsaber lay waiting. 

The new, dark Rey slipped a finger beneath his chin and lifted his head to meet her. He seemed startled at the feel of her touch, the memory of the last time her fingertips had found him amidst the damp glow of the hut surfacing in his mind. “I have seen power you couldn’t even understand, son of Han Solo.” 

At the name of his father, Kylo howled and launched himself up at her, arm twirling above his head as the lightsaber ignited in a blaze of red. “Did you open the bond just to mock me?" 

Dark Rey leaned back to avoid the searing path of the blade, its wake rustling the fabric of her hood, causing it to fall entirely. 

Her hair was braided back, snaking around itself into the three signature buns Rey usually wore, but the glint of jewelry ensnared at the base of each one gave her a royal appearance. 

Never had Rey even stood next to this much decadence, let alone draped her body with it. Couldn’t Kylo tell it wasn’t her? She tried to shout again. Nothing. 

“Not at all,” Dark Rey smirked, eyeing the unsheathed saber. “I had to get away from the Resistance. There’s too much pressure. They think I’m going to save them.” She grimaced. “The hope of an entire galaxy, resting on my shoulders, and all I can think about--” 

Pausing, she tested Kylo’s resolve by inching closer, eyes no longer on the saber but boring directly into him. His matted black hair, his ferocious eyes. “Is you.” 

Still watching from her position squarely between them, Rey felt her chest flare. Kylo had offered _ her _ the universe, not this… this nightmare, this monster from hell who was parading as Rey from Jakku. Jealousy purred inside her, making her throat feel even tighter. The mixture of hatred and confusion she felt towards Kylo began to transform as she watched him lower the lightsaber, putting it out. 

No! Was he going to fall for it? 

_ It’s not me, please! Kylo! _ She tried again to reach him through their bond. 

“I offered you everything.” Kylo made a strangled noise. “You rejected me. You _ tried to kill me _.” He growled. 

“That was before I understood my feelings for you.” Dark Rey slowly undid the clasp of her hooded robe, letting it fall like debris at her feet. “It is easy to confuse love with hatred.” 

“Love?” Kylo spat, as though the word were the most vile weapon in the galaxy. “Love is weakness.” 

Dark Rey’s eyes seemed to well up - quite a show to the real Rey who was watching in horror as this woman began to extend herself towards Kylo’s trembling frame - and she delicately touched his chest, hovering for a moment before making contact. “You’re hurt. I hurt you. I made you feel this way.” 

“_ No _!” Kylo barked. “Han Solo made me feel this way.” 

His father’s name hung above them like a haunting in the air.

For a moment, Rey had forgotten about the other version of herself touching Kylo’s chest, and her own hand lifted to mirror the spot they touched. In his eyes she saw a familiar pain - one that brought her back to many arid nights on Jakku, spent crying and shouting and sparring the air with her staff, wondering when the loneliness would become too much. Perhaps even hoping it would, so that the instinct for survival could finally be outweighed by sadness. To be able to let go instead of remaining trapped in a loveless existence. 

She understood him in ways that frightened her, making it easy to rebuke his interrogations of her desire and her willingness to follow Luke and the Resistance blindly. But the woman who claimed Rey’s face - whose hand was moving nimbly from Kylo’s chest to the smooth landscape of his chin - made it impossible to deny anymore what Rey feared to accept. 

_ Kylo, please. I’m here. I love you _. 

The words spilled out of her, lancing their way through the bond like an electric storm, and much to Rey’s shock it seemed to have reached him. She could sense a shift, his own mind opening up like a portal, drawing her in. 

But when he responded by lifting a hand to meet her own, it was not Rey’s hand he took. 

Dark Rey smirked, pleased by Kylo’s hand now fitting itself on top of hers. A battle waged on his face - a face that told so many stories in its scarred, anxious, war-torn features; of a mother that loved him but was never around, of a father that couldn’t be himself and love his son at the same time. He spoke, reluctance ever present in his voice. “You’re nothing…” Kylo started to push her hand off him, but something seemed to freeze his fingers. 

An old feeling. A leap of faith. Then, familiar words. “...but not to me.”

  
Gripped by horror, Rey watched as he pulled Dark Rey into his bruised chest, enveloping her in a kiss that was meant for someone else. _ Meant for me _. Rey cried out through the bond, but it was too late.


End file.
